Tuesday, October 24, 2006

the shape of experience

Morning light slants down the brick wall of Korean Methodist Church. I'm drinking black tea with milk and knitting, sitting cross-legged on the futon. The refrigerator's humming loudly in the kitchen, condensation fogs the windows. A full vase of roses rests on the coffee table, roses Nebojsa brought to me after working at a wedding in Scarsdale on Sunday. It's well time to be off to the seminary, but I keep starting another row of soft pink and orange wool on the scarf I'm making.

Rachel made a comment a few days ago--after reading Julia's post about regaining contact with the gravity of the broader world after Esme's birth--about how the experiences of death and of new life seem comfortingly similar. And it struck me that my experiences of loss and gain have so entwined themselves together as to create a kind of whole, mirroring each other. I think of the chiasm, the way the words take shape in reflection--pain against pain, joy against joy. And I think of how easy it is to miss the center, the quiet place inbetween the action, that is point after all. Like this quiet morning in Crestwood, tea with pink wool, and roses opening.


Jenny said...


This might be the most beautiful post I've ever read in my life. Will you come and sit at the foot of my bed and read your blog to me? That would be so comforting to my soul.

I totally agree with Rachel about birth and death (and the church sets aside a forty day period after each). And death and birth mingle so profoundly on the threshold of each.

Anyway, thank you for posting. For tea with pink wool and roses opening.


Julia said...

Amber, Amber, Amber. I am knitting again too, and in my mind, I keep composing an e-mail to ask if you are also knitting again, because I so associate knitting with time spent with you during winter months. I keep thinking: if she is knitting again, then it's a sign that her body chemistry is re-adjusting after the headache pill incident, and she isn't so sad anymore. It seems like I was right (?).

That said, I cannot believe you are making another pink and orange scarf.

Red said...

Just felt I should chime in since she's knitting with me now and knitting with pink and orange for me. I know you are all so jealous now. Well, you happy moms can revel in the new lives you are bringing into our lives while I revel in getting to be with our dear friend.

Lucy said...

I am so happy to have the three of you for friends. I am so truly blessed!